


My Dean. Not My Dean.

by eshcaine



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Reality, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angel Manifestation, Dom/sub Undertones, Erotica, M/M, Music, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Possessive Behavior, Roughness, Season/Series 08, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-16
Updated: 2013-02-16
Packaged: 2017-11-29 13:00:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/687238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eshcaine/pseuds/eshcaine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>**“I AM Dean…..!!” Dean growled in frustration not caring one bit right now about parallel realities or the possible moral implications of sexing up the divergent version of one’s best friend or significant other. He was nearly weeping openly at how incredibly fantastic this Castiel’s body felt against his.**</p><p>What if current canon Dean slipped into a parallel reality and met a Castiel who had been in a healthy loving relationship with his Dean since just after defeating Lucifer?</p><p>Based on Hugh Everett's Many World's Theory: The Overly Simplified Version.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Dean. Not My Dean.

“Dean, where are you? I thought you’d be back with dinner by now….” Sam grumbled a little, but not that much. He was seated at the table in the Men of Letters library with a huge old book open in front of him.

“I caught a glimpse of a vamp feeding….I’ve followed it back to the nest. Small nest looks like, only two others. I’ll clean them out and then be back at the Batcave in no time. No big deal.” Dean spoke into his cell phone as he lingered outside an abandoned apartment building.

“Be careful. And don’t forget the soy sauce.” Sam snarked.

“Yea yea.” Dean hung up, pocketed his cell phone and hefted his purgatory blade.

He entered the building, and in less than fifteen minutes he had waded through the nest in the basement, sending the vampire’s heads flying off their necks. Deciding to do a bit of recon on the rest of the building to be thorough, he began to do a careful sweep of each floor. The five lower levels proved empty and barren. In the hallway on the sixth floor part of landing gave way under his weight and he nearly fell to the fifth floor below. On the eighth floor as he crested the stairs the sconces on the walls sputtered and fizzed on wildly and a small faint wave of nausea washed over Dean. His ears were thrumming slightly, and then they stopped. He shook it off and continued up.

The stairs stopped at the ninth floor, and the only way up was through the lift shaft. The gates were easily parted open and the elevator cart itself was on the eighth floor, so Dean tucked his blade in between his teeth and climbed. He figured he’d take a look around, and if there were more than two vamps, he’d call Sam to come back him up. The climb up was easy, and getting the gates to open once he was up there was just as simple. Dean hauled his body silently onto the tenth floor, got to his feet and looked around.

The whole floor was one entire loft area. An expanse of windows opened up the western face of the room, and the late afternoon sunset was pouring in. To his left was a well appointed kitchen area, a small eating bar and dining area. Between that and the windows was a large living area with plump yet slouchy couches and a large entertainment center. In front of him was a sparse office set up, and to his right; the bedroom. A big cozy king size bed sat prominently on a low platform. Along the wall to his left next to the elevator were more doors. Unlike the rest of the apartment building, this level looked well cared for, lived in and clean.

Dean was about to step in further when one of the doors to his left began to open. Dean quickly slipped into the elevator shaft and hid in the shadows.

A man walked out of the bath with steam from a just finished shower trailing behind him. He was lithe, but cut with wiry muscles. His skin was so fair it was almost chalky and he had a shock of dark damp hair sticking out on his head. He was bare footed and wearing simple draped cotton drawstring pants. He paused by a hat rack next to the door to the bath, grabbed a fedora from it and topped it onto his head at a roguish angle. He glided to one of the dressers under the window, picked up a small hand held remote and hit one of the buttons. [Music began to waft through the loft.](http://youtu.be/c8N8Nj4pFCQ) He then crossed over to the kitchen and opened the fridge. Moments later he was pouring himself a glass of white wine and took it with him as he floated over to the expanse of windows. He took a sip from his wine and began to dance to the music. His face was now bathed in the light from outside and Dean could make out his features clearly.

He was the spitting image of Castiel, Angel of the Lord.

 “Cas?!” Dean thought as he slipped silently out of the elevator shaft and positioned himself with his upper half in shadow, concealing the purgatory blade just behind him along his leg. Dean blinked, and then blinked again. This man, whoever he was, looked exactly like Castiel, or Jimmy Novak depending on your frame of reference, in every way. The resemblance was so astonishing it took Dean a moment to process what his eyes were seeing.

He was also having trouble processing something else. The way this man who looked like Cas was moving. This man was fluid and smooth and stimulating. There was no awkwardness in the control of this body. He guided and pulled his frame with easy motions that slipped and grooved with the beat. He held his right foot lightly on the floor and twisted his ankle around, which in turn caused his hip to roll sensuously, its skin graced by the warm glow of sunlight. He did the move again, and this time it caused his stomach to undulate, pushing his chest up but dropping his shoulders back. His head fell back slightly, and then his whole body dipped as it eased down out of its wave. His movements weren’t just echoing the music, they were sexual and erotic and Dean’s mouth was going dry. Before this moment Dean had never had any reason to really see Castiel or his vessel as a sexual being. He had never really thought consciously of that body being something that exuded something erotic. That had all flown out the window now watching this man sway to the music. This was possibly one of the sexiest things Dean had ever seen.

The man turned in a hushed sound as his feet ghosted over the floor. The waistband edges of his trousers had slipped lower as he danced, so that when he turned Dean could see twin dimples on his lower back just above the crests of his ass. And then when he swirled slowly to face Dean’s direction, the edge of his external oblique muscle leading from his upper hip down to his groin was heightened visually. Dean had to fight to calm his heart rate and he firmed his grip on his blade handle. The man leaned back, and when his stomach rippled again Dean had to bite the inside of his cheek. Dean’s stomach was quivering and there was a hot warmth spreading all over his skin. He was getting irritated that he was so aroused and it was sending red flag warnings to his hunter brain. He was about to charge in and swing the blade at the guy, when the man tilted the brim of his hat up and saw Dean.

And smiled.

It was Castiel’s smile and yet it wasn’t his at the same time. It was warmer, confident and it dripped with a luxurious intimacy. It was Cas’ smile but it was something more evolved. He tipped his head back a bit, tossed the hat away and moved towards Dean. “You’re home early.”

Dean braced himself and said nothing, keeping the blade hidden against his leg.

The man took a long sip of his wine and then paused to set it on the floor. He came right up to Dean, unafraid and stood in Dean’s personal space much like Castiel always would. That smile grew and crinkled at his nose slightly, “Not that I’m complaining. How’s Bobby?”

At that Dean blanched and couldn’t help making a small startled sound. “B…Bobby?”

“Yea, I thought you and Sam had gone to his place to help him build a new deck on the back of his house. I thought you’d be gone until this weekend.” The man pulled up close to Dean and curled his hands around the edges of Dean’s jacket at the shoulders, “I am so happy to have you back early. You know how I get when I am unable to touch you for more than a day or two.…” He yanked with a firm tug on Dean’s jacket, bringing Dean to press against him so much so that the inside of Dean’s knees dragged against the other man’s legs. The man took a deep breath and brushed his nose against Dean’s cheek.

And then halted.

Dean was nearly paralyzed. Between the overwhelming and abject arousal that was hammering in his veins and the shocked confusion at hearing Bobby’s name used in the present tense, Dean faltered. His eyes were as wide a green hillsides and the blade’s handle slid slightly in his grip.

The man angled back just a breath and his hooded intense gaze lanced Dean’s eyes just exactly as Castiel’s always had. The deepened blue irises intensified as he careful scrutinized Dean, yet his hold on Dean’s jacket didn’t lessen. Then those deep blues pinpricked into sudden flashing angelic white flares. He lifted Dean with ease, tossed him off his feet and sent him skidding across the bedroom area to land smashed against the northern wall. The purgatory blade skittered away with a metallic ring across the floor. In a flicker the man was there, looming over Dean, one hand at Dean’s throat and the other hand brandishing an angel blade.

“Who are you?! Where is Dean?!” Great wide dark shadows of angel wings unfurled and arched behind the man in the setting sun’s light.

Dean gasped, his eyes wide, completely lost as to what was happening. He reached up and gripped at the hand that held his throat as he choked out, “I am Dean!”

The man still thrumming with angel power leaned closer and sniffed at the side of Dean’s neck. Then he pulled back a bit and looked at Dean. This time it was with the thorough penetrating gaze that Castiel would always use when he was delving deep into reading someone’s mind. When he was done, he inched closer with a stern expression. His grip shifted from Dean’s throat to his jaw, and the strength of it was like a vice. He pulled Dean’s face close to his and held it there, their eyes locked.

With an easy cant of his head, the man brought their faces together and he kissed Dean. It was a forceful thing at first, dominant and powerful. He crushed his mouth to Dean’s and pried their lips both open with his tongue. At first Dean fought this intrusion, fear coiling cold in his gut. But then as the kiss deepened and warmed, and as the man began to suckle almost worship-fully at Dean’s lips, the fear inside Dean fled. Dean felt his stomach tighten up and his heart knock faster in excitement.

The man broke the kiss just as the warmth started to pool like molten ore inside Dean’s limbs. The man brushed his lips against Dean’s ear and whispered, “By God you sure taste like Dean.” The man nipped roughly at Dean’s neck just under his ear and then he released his hold. He stood straight and the wings and blade of the angel were gone. The hot pricks of white light had faded from his eyes as well. He paced back and forth slowly as he scoured Dean with his eyes. “What are you doing here?” The man’s voice was Castiel’s voice. Pebbly and bubbling with his usual low timbre.

Dean tried to get his hands under himself to sit up straighter and realized with no small bit of embarrassment that he was sporting an impressive erection. He shifted as best as he could to hide it as he looked up at this man, this impossible angel, this possible Cas.

The man’s eyes dropped to Dean’s crotch for a half second, and an almost smirk flicked across his lips before it was gone. “Well?”

The near smirk lit a fire under Dean that had been lagging since he had arrived. The hunter in him pushed past his body’s aroused response and he quickly got to his feet. His face shifted from stunned awe to something more determined and he just glowered at the man. Out of the corner of his eye he could make out where the purgatory blade had landed and he started silently calculating what he would need to do to get it into his hands again.

The man almost chuckled openly and shook his head as if seeing something in Dean that was all too familiar. “You are always such a pain in the ass Dean….” The man said this softly, affectionately. And then a half second later he had Dean shoved against the wall, pinned there with his hands knotted into Dean’s jacket and their chests pressed against each other. It felt like a dance Dean and Castiel had done before, in Zachariah’s green room and in a certain alleyway one awful night. Only this time Dean’s hands came up to grip at this man’s wrists, trying with no effect to wrench himself free.

Their faces a mere breadth apart again, the man repeated his question. “What. Are. You. Doing. Here?” He canted his head in that quizzical way that Castiel would always do and he bored his gaze into Dean. “Tell me or I’ll go in after the information and I won’t be gentle about it.”Dean saw a cold determination flare up along with those white fire pits inside the other man’s eyes.

Dean set his jaw and glared back, but spit out “OKAY! Okay! Followed a vamp here, found a nest. Was cleaning it out and came up here to make sure I didn’t miss one. Found…..you….instead.”

The man who looked like Cas took his eyes off Dean for a moment and appraised the purgatory blade lying on the floor several feet away, “Where did you get that?!”

“Whadda mean where did I get that?!” Dean growled. “If you were really Cas you’d know!”

The other man’s head snapped back around to look at Dean, “If I were really Cas…..??” Then a wave of some understanding seemed to dawn on the man, and his eyes flared wider, “I am Castiel…..but not YOUR Castiel I think….”He let Dean slide down out of his grip and he stepped back. His eyes went back to the purgatory blade. “…and THAT thing…isn’t from here _HERE_.”

“I….I brought it back with me from purgatory.” Dean said it then, and looked at the other man, “After I was there, with you.”

The man who would, could be another Castiel looked at Dean, “I’ve never been in Purgatory. Ever.… Dean and I never have been there. My Dean.” Those last words held such a deep possessiveness that it went into something deeper than just friendship and camaraderie. It made that quivering sensation deep in Dean’s gut wobble like jello.

Dean responded with genuine confusion clouding his face, “So you didn’t help kill Dick Roman the leader of the Leviathan….”

The man cut Dean off, “I have no idea what you are talking about. There has never been any Leviathan here to kill. They are all locked away in Purgatory and have been since memory can recall.” He narrowed his eyes as he looked at Dean, “But yes, you speak the truth. You have fought them, slain them, both here and elsewhere….” He began to circle Dean slowly, “So how did Leviathan manage to break out into your world anyway?”

“My world?!” Dean began to turn to follow this Cas as he circled.

That near smirk was back on the man’s face, “Isn’t it obvious? Somehow you have stepped sideways….” and when Dean’s lack of understanding continued to show on his face the man continued, “Have you ever heard of the many-worlds interpretation of quantum mechanics?”

“N….no.” Dean pouted slightly. At least this discussion was calming his hormones down and allowing his body to go back to behaving itself.

“The basic idea is that every event in life is a branch point for different outcomes, and that all outcomes actually happen but they diverge and are equally real but cannot interact with each other. Or at least, shouldn’t interact with each other.” When the man stepped briefly out of Dean’s line of sight, he took that moment to sweep his gaze over Dean’s body without being caught.

“What you are saying is that in some parallel reality Hitler won the Second World War and took over the world….” Dean’s pout morphed into an actual frown.

“And that would be the reality for those who would live in that divergent world. Those who made the choices that caused that outcome.” This Castiel nodded and ceased his walking about.

“So here in this reality the Leviathan never escaped. You and your Dean never did time in Purgatory…” Dean paused, “So you didn’t need the souls to fight your angel brothers…..Why?”

“You’ll have to give me a little bit of a reference here ‘Not-My-Dean’. Why would I be fighting my angel brethren in the first place?” The stoic blink that came from this Castiel was still exactly like the Castiel Dean knew.

“You never made a partnership with Crowely, you never had to make a power play for heaven…” Dean gestured still frowning.

“Why in my Father’s name would I do any of that?!” This Cas was beginning to look annoyed.

Dean stopped and thought for a moment, then asked, “Tell me about the Apocalypse… how did that go down here? I mean, you met your Dean by pulling his ass out of hell I am assuming….so the seal was broken….”

The man’s cheeks flushed slightly and he stepped impossibly close to Dean obliterating their personal space in a half second. In the other second he was wrestling Dean’s jacket off of him and throwing it across the room as Dean let out verbal protests. Then the man yanked off Dean’s shirt exposing him from the waist up. He let the shirt drop from his fingers as the other hand reached up to lightly touch the hand print on Dean’s shoulder. The imprint Castiel had left when he raised Dean from Perdition. The look on the man’s face was filled with such overwhelming tenderness and affection that whatever remaining gripes Dean had in mind were silenced.

Instead Dean said quietly, “So that did happen with you.”

“Yes” This Castiel replied as he lingered his hand over the mark. Then he said, “But there was no full on Apocalypse.”

“What?! How?” Dean asked unintentionally shivering at the other man’s touch.

“It is so incredible how much alike you are to my Dean….” The other man’s voice came out deeper, huskier, and something heated washed over his gaze as it was rooted to Dean’s shoulder, ”I wonder how alike in….”

“How did you stop the Apocalypse?” Dean insisted.

“….At the Elysium Fields hotel….”This Cas was so close to Dean now that his breath ghosted over Dean’s skin as he spoke, “Gabriel, true to his trickster nature, asked Sam to be his vessel and Sam agreed. Sam figured that if Gabriel were wearing him, Lucifer couldn’t. With Gabriel inside Sam, they made a powerful combination and were able to cast Lucifer into the pit with your help….er, Dean’s help, and Bobby’s and mine….Then Gabriel gave up Sam as a vessel and Sam was no worse for wear, though he did develop a taste for sweets……”

This Castiel closed his eyes and took a long inhale of Dean’s scent, “…yes… Purgatory…I can smell it on you faintly…..the brutality of it, the purity of it….I can scent other things on you as well but not….” His eyes flew open and nailed Dean with an unblinking stare, “But not your Cas. Not at least in the way I expected. Except for brief expressions of platonic familial affection you and he have never….touched…. each other.” His nostrils flared and his touch on Dean’s shoulder went from a light caress to a tight grip.

Dean’s head jerked back slightly and he looked at this Castiel out of the corner of his eyes, “So?”

“So while you and your Castiel were busy dancing around with Lucifer and Leviathans, MY Dean…”And again the complete possessive tone in his voice affected Dean somewhere in his core making his insides quiver and his head light. “My Dean and I were busy doing other things….”

“Such as?” Dean winced a little when his voice broke as he spoke.

This Castiel smiled, and it was a smile filled with so many carnal promises made and so many carnal promises _kept_ that Dean very nearly swooned. This Cas brushed his cheek against Dean’s and murmured against his ear with heat in his low whisper, “You want to know how it started don’t you? How MY Dean and I came together.”

Dean’s reply was a rough swallow in his throat and he was aware that he was fully aroused again, maybe more so than before.

“It was about a month or so after we defeated Lucifer. Bobby caught wind of a string of murders down in New Orleans. All four of us went down to investigate. We discovered there was a rather large occult group trying to open a bridge between this reality and another one, so an ancient tentacle god named Narlathotep could manifest…. While Bobby and Sam dealt with the human involvement, my Dean and I took on the undead they had attracted to help them.” This Cas chuckled and the vibration of it traveled in ripples through Dean. “We had been slaying things for hours in this hot and sweaty swamp….when we finished, Dean was so high on adrenaline I thought he would burst. Out of the blue he tackled me to the ground.”

This Castiel wrapped his other arm behind Dean’s waist and gave him a rough squeeze in emphasis.  “He was on top of me laughing about something that had happened during the battle. At first his mood was celebratory, innocent,…playful. And then suddenly it wasn’t.” The man who was the other Dean’s Castiel gave a low broken moan at the memories flooding through him now and he held this Dean tighter. So much so that it was no secret to either of them how profoundly turned on this Dean was or how this Castiel’s body echoed with his own needy ache.

“That first kiss was everything. It was as incandescent as my Grace and seared both of us like Perdition. It went on and on and just as I thought it would break us…. It fused us, body, mind and soul.” This Cas began to tremble and he pressed his face against Dean’s neck, “We ripped each others clothes off and held each other down and…..”

“…Cas….” Dean was about to crumble to his knees. His arms came up to hold fast around the other man and his forehead fell to this Castiel’s shoulder.

“….sometimes real love isn’t what we expect….” Castiel’s voice was raw with emotion suddenly and Dean could feel the man’s stomach trembling as he spoke, “….sometimes it comes at us in a humid swamp as the face of our best friend and it blind sides us and wraps us in its arms and launches us into space and we can’t be afraid…. We have to hold on and thrill at the ride….”His voice choked softly on the last sentence.

Dean unraveled. Without thinking his hands were in Castiel’s hair, jerking the man’s head up so he could latch their mouths together in a heated kiss. His breath came in steamed snorts like some charging animal as he manhandled Castiel’s head where he wanted it, at the angle he needed it to be so he could shove his tongue in as deep as possible. He caught Castiel’s tongue with his mouth and began to suck hungrily on it, pulling it out of the other’s mouth and forcing his lips to stretch wide.

Cas found the back of Dean’s neck and gripped it with his angel strength. He broke the kiss and pulled Dean’s head back as they both panted hard. “You….. are not….. my Dean.” And with that he shoved Dean away from him gently but firmly.

Dean lost his footing for a half second. Then he righted himself as his hunter instincts kicked in on top of the desire that now burned through every inch of his body. He lunged back at the Castiel before him, caught him and they both spiraled together to land on the floor. Dean used the momentum to land on top, his legs straddling Castiel’s thighs and pinning his elbows to the floor. The wicked grin of triumph was cut from Dean’s face however when Cas flipped them both easily and reversed their positions, holding Dean firm in spite of his struggling.

“No…” Cas stated with an authoritarian note to his still husky low voice. His body was advertising the opposite however as the drape on his pants did not hide his prominent erection.

“Yes.” Dean said defiantly through his teeth. He shifted his hips under Cas and grazed their engorged phalluses against each other through his jeans.

The sensation made Castiel grit his teeth as his body jolted. His hold wavered and his head dropped down. This caused the top of his head to brush his mussed dark hair against Dean’s chest. ”Deannnn….” he growled out.

Dean crushed his eyes closed and did it again, tugging his groin against Castiel’s in slow halted rough drags. It was all he could muster with Castiel’s weight on him, but instead of being awkward and a turn off, its randomness intensified everything.

“Get…me…out of….these jeans….Cas….” Dean grunted as Castiel’s shoulders began to sag in time with Dean’s persistent jerky motion. Dean continued, “You’ve wanted…this…since you…laid eyes…on me….”

Cas whimpered, “…not my Deannnn…”

“I AM Dean…..!!” Dean growled in frustration not caring one bit right now about parallel realities or the possible moral implications of sexing up the divergent version of one’s best friend or significant other. He was nearly weeping openly at how incredibly fantastic this Castiel’s….Cas!… body felt against his. He had never had such a raging hard on like the one he had now and his body vibrated with an ache that lanced him clean through. “Dammit Cas!!…if you don’t fuck me right now I’m gonna….”

“You’ll what Dean?” Castiel’s voice quivered as his body sank down against Dean’s, yet he still managed to keep Dean clutched against the floor. He snaked his head up alongside Dean’s and breathed hot against his ear, “You’ve never been able to force me into doing something before. What makes you think you can do it now?”

Dean inadvertently trembled down to his core at those words. It was true; he didn’t have the upper hand here where strength was involved against a fully primed angel. Dean sucked in a breath feeling just how primed this angel was. Cas was pulsing in more ways than one, in more places than one. It was making it impossible for Dean to access the brain in his head over the primal hedonistic surge of desire that was overwhelming his body. So Dean did the only thing he could do. He opened his mouth, latched onto Castiel’s shoulder where it met his neck and began to suck lasciviously on it.

Castiel groaned something along the lines of “….dear god you are Dean….” and his body gave way into undulating echoes of the grind Dean was working at with his own hips. They fell into a shuddering rough rhythm as they humped against each other, groaning.

Dean released his suckle on Castiel’s shoulder and a small sound slipped from his throat, “Cas….clothing….”

“Unmmmph….” Was the only verbal reply. Castiel lifted one hand off Dean’s arm and it slapped sweaty against the floor. Then the other hand followed. He raised himself up off Dean to sit back with his rump on Dean’s glorious thighs. He held his gaze on Dean for a full moment and Dean couldn’t see where Castiel’s pupils stopped and his irises began. His face was a haze of torrid lust.

Slowly with one crooked finger he popped open the top button on Dean’s jeans. Then he nudged himself down along Dean’s legs, and lowered his face to Dean’s crotch. He nipped the zipper pull with his teeth and then dragged it open with his mouth. Dean’s eyes went three sizes bigger and he choked out some unintelligible words. He had very nearly cum instantly from the sight.

Cas worked his fingers into the edges of Dean’s waistband and began to yank in short sharp pulls, divesting Dean of both jeans and boxers. He brought them down to Dean’s ankles and left them to knot up around the top of Dean’s boots. Then Cas stood, pulled the drawstring undone from his pants and let go. He shoved the waist down past his stiffened cock and the cotton pants rippled the rest of the way to the floor. He stepped out of them, stood over Dean, and stared.

Dean followed Castiel’s seething gaze down to Dean’s own cock. It hovered slightly over his groin and the bottom of his stomach because it was so hard. The head of it was swollen to such a deep red it was nearly purple and the skin shone it was so taut. Cas lifted one foot and rested it on Dean’s hip, nudging the tip of the head of Dean’s cock ever so lightly with his big toe. Then ever so slowly Cas rubbed the bottom of his foot’s arch along the underside of Dean’s shaft. Dean rolled his head back and sucked in another ragged breath. The noises that leaked out of Dean’s throat as he exhaled were unreal. His hands were helplessly gripped into his own hair as any remaining rational thought was flushed from his mind.

Cas removed his foot and sank back down to sit on Dean’s legs. Castiel leaned forward and placed his palms on Dean’s hip, fingers spread out framing Dean’s cock. Cas opened his mouth and breathed hot and long over the skin there, making Dean’s stomach ripple and his shaft to jump. Dean openly and loudly whimpered but it was stopped with choke when Castiel abruptly covered the swollen head with his wet lips, and sucked it deep into his mouth with a muffled moan. Cas slowly lavished Dean’s head and shaft with his mouth, drawing it out, suckling it back in and flipping Dean’s mind in on itself. He took his time and did all the things with his tongue that he knew sent Dean spiraling into a place where his body sweltered and quaked. But each time he felt Dean begin to crest on his orgasm; Cas would halt and withdraw to place chaste kisses on Dean’s hips and thighs. After a few rounds of that Dean was weeping not only from his tip of his cock but from the corners of his eyes as well.

Finally Castiel ceased all together and pulled his body up along Dean’s. He positioned his hips level with Dean’s face and bobbed his own turgid cock against Dean’s lips. He didn’t even need to say a word, and Dean hungrily lapped at it with his tongue, sucking and kissing at it with his mouth. Cas held out to enjoy that for as long as he could before his thighs began to shake and he had to pull away.

He slithered back down against Dean’s body now, chest flush to chest, hip bones to hip bones, overheated and over strained erection to its match.  Dean cried out and his hands flew to Castiel’s hips, gouging into them to hold, mold and control. He roughly bucked and fucked against Cas, who slipped and rutted back in kind. The side of Castiel’s head fell alongside Dean’s and they gasped and moaned in tandem, incomprehensible words catching in their throats. Castiel’s hand plastered against his mark on Dean’s shoulder.

Dean suddenly slowed, his voice was raspy as the words hovered past his lips, “….Cassss….this is….so….g….good….” He dragging the undersides of their shafts against each other in long lingering strokes.  He did it once, twice and then….Dean erupted. Ropes of cum shot out as both men grappled with each other, pressing their foreheads against the other’s shoulder. Cas came right after, following Dean hot and fast. Castiel called out in a low guttural groans that underscored Dean’s clipped breathy whine. They held each other, shivering as their tremors subsided.

Cas could feel tears on his shoulder now and he held Dean tighter, recalling how overwhelmingly intense the first time had been for he and his Dean. They remained that way for a long moment, unmoving except for the aftershocks thrumming through their bodies.

Finally Dean relaxed his head back against the floor and looked up at the ceiling. “You live here….with your Dean.” He stated in a weak whisper.

“Yes.” Castiel said gently.

“And here, Bobby is alive?” Dean’s voice nearly broke there was so much emotion in it.

“Yes. Healthy and doing fine.” Cas couldn’t help nuzzling at Dean’s ear lovingly. “And Sam is too.”

Dean squeezed the remaining tears out of his eyes by wringing them shut tight. Cas moved his head to gently kiss them away without saying anything. Finally Dean opened his eyes and stirred to get up. Castiel let him.

“I need to go. I need to….”  Dean paused, “…get back and find My Angel.” The possessiveness that had been rife in this Castiel’s voice when he said ‘My Dean’ was now echoed in this Dean’s tone in reference to his Cas. “There is so much I’ve lost…. In my reality…..from my life. I can’t risk losing him too. ”

Dean paused once more after he had gathered the purgatory blade and his clothing. He looked over at the Castiel who wasn’t quite his but yet somehow still was and said, “Thank you.”

Castiel just smiled knowingly and watched him go.

 

 ———————————————————————————————-

 

Getting back to his proper reality was as easy as Dean crossing back down to the seventh floor. He confirmed this numerous ways, one of which was by asking Sam a lot of odd questions over the phone about who was still alive and who was dead. He lied when Sam asked for an explanation by saying he thought he hallucinated something but everything was fine now. How was he supposed to explain to his brother that he had just spent the last hour shagging another Castiel in a parallel reality? So he went and got Chinese food instead, and he didn’t forget the soy sauce.

He also swore the next time he saw HIS Cas, he was going to hold on and thrill at the ride.

 

———————————————————————————————-

 

Two days later Dean opened the gate on the loft elevator and dropped his bags just inside along the wall. The surround sound music in the loft was on, and a slow sexy beat bumped through the air. Dean smiled and wandered over to the fridge, opened it and palmed a beer into his hand. He opened it and took a long swig. He looked over and saw one of the widows was open. It led to the fire escape, and Dean could see Cas lazily lounging out on it with some pillows and cushions under him. Dean bit his lip and let his mind play out over all the naughty things he was going to get up to with his angel tonight.

“Not going to get very far loitering in there…” Cas called from outside, never looking in Dean’s direction.

Dean grinned and went to the window, then climbed out. He sank down into the cushions against Cas and caught his mouth in a hungry kiss. When the kiss broke Cas leaned back a moment and skewered Dean with his dark gaze. Then he nodded with satisfaction.

“My Dean.”

 


End file.
